


Destiny Is Bullshit

by madiv951



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M, Real Life AU where Dylan isn't famous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:30:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madiv951/pseuds/madiv951
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah thought she left it all behind her. It may have followed her further than she ever thought possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In The Beginning

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I was wrong for lashing out like this. Maybe this wasn’t the best way to deal with the whole thing. But this was the only way I knew how. Find a willing stranger and forget for an hour or two. Well, forget for a night if I had the money for a fifth of tequila.

      What was I trying to forget, you ask? It’s a story I’m not too fond of revisiting, but for you, I will.

★★★★★

A sharp elbow in my side snaps me back into reality. Nicole is glaring at me, the ice in her pink drink tinkling along with the music that is beginning to come to life in the background.

“Dude, are you even listening to me? What else do you want to do this weekend before you have to head back to New York?” Shrugging my shoulders, I down the rest of my frilly pink cocktail and wave over the bartender. I’m going to need something a little stronger than this bitch beer Nicole has me sipping.

“Four shots of tequila, please.” Flashing a smile at Nicole, I tip the shot glass toward her and let the familiar burn run down my throat. She snatches one up and quickly follows my lead.

“Ugh. I don’t know why you like that stuff. It burns like hell... Yuck,” she complains, coughing slightly.

“Well, I will gladly take that other shot off your hands. Besides, I’m bored and there aren’t even any cute guys to make our own fun.” Nicole simply shoves her remaining shot my way and glances around the bar, scanning for potential prey. Her elbow connects with my side again as she nods toward the end of the bar.

Sitting on a stool, swirling an amber liquid in a scotch glass is a guy not more than 21 years old. His blue flannel shirt immediately catches my attention, but is not what keeps it. From the neck up, this guy is a usual 21-year-old. Dark hair and angled jaw. Hand pressed up against his temple telling you that maybe he hasn’t had the best week. But... From the neck down, he looks like the kind of guy that could do things to you. The hand pressed to his temple is long and lean. That of a man who has been through some things. Despite their skinny appearance, those hands look strong. His shoulders are broader that the baggy flannel lets on. The way he is sitting gives away a lifetime of dealing with too-long legs.

“Go talk to him. He looks like he could use some cheering up. And you said you were bored. Go make your own fun.” Nicole is smiling at me like she knows some deep secret of mine. “I know that look, Sarah. Go. I’ll wait here or see you tomorrow. Whatever.” She winks and turns away from me. Taking a deep breath, I stand, straighten my skirt, and move toward this stranger.

“Someone looks like they’ve had a bad day,” I mutter, sliding onto the bar stool next to him. This guy was cute from far away, but now he is looking at me straight on. His eyes are the color of the drink still being swirled around in his glass.

“I guess you could say that,” he offers, running his free hand through his already messy hair.

“I know this usually happens the other way around, but can I buy you a drink?” A smile breaks across his face as he nods.

 

“So, you are telling me that you don’t like baseball?” Three additional drinks for each of us later and we are both laughing like idiots.

“Oh god, I hate baseball! Nothing ever happens! You can’t even count on a homerun every game! They all just stand around and try to hit a ball going 95 miles an hour with a stick!”

“Are you even American? That is shameful!” His head is in his hands and his shoulders are shaking from laughter. “Dance with me,” he says, lifting his head. Somehow I know it isn’t a question.

“Normally, I’d say no, but I am so drunk that it sounds like fun. But I just realized I don’t even know your name. I’m Sarah,” I slur, holding out my hand.

“Dylan,” he replies, shaking my hand and proceeding to pull me onto the dance floor. In my drunken state, my confidence is much higher than it should be. As soon as we are in the middle of the crowd, my hands snake around his neck. Dylan’s confidence must also be high because his hands press into the small of my back, effectively pulling me flushes against his chest.

      The music is loud and fast. To my surprise, Dylan knows his way around a dance floor. His rhythm is almost better than mine despite his lanky appearance. The next song changes pace, but only slightly. Dylan spins me around so his chest is pressed against my back. Those long fingers curl around my hips. My breath hitches in my throat as ragged, hot breath runs along my neck. Hot lips drag down my neck and latch onto where my jaw meets my neck. On pure instinct, my hand flies to the back of his neck, holding him there. The smile on my skin is obvious.

      After another song or three, Dylan pulls me aside and asks if I want to head out. I let a smile work its way onto my face and tug him toward the door.

 

      His apartment is nicer that I’d have expected. White walls, clean cut furniture, very tidy, black counters. The first thing that meets my nose is cologne. And not the kind Dylan is currently wearing. All I know is that I like the smell. I am completely caught up by it. It takes Dylan kissing me and his hands firmly on my waist to bring me back to reality. He tastes of whiskey and sweat, but I couldn’t care less. His lips are soft and inviting. Dylan’s lips find the spot behind my ear that he discovered earlier; the spot that never fails to pull some sort of moan from my throat.

      A low rumble moves through Dylan’s chest as a make quick work of his flannel and old t-shirt. Pausing slightly, I take in the fact that his baggy shirt was hiding so much. A broad, strong chest with shoulders and abs to match.

      “What?” Dylan has an eyebrow raised.

      “You are like one of those super fluffy cats that get wet and then you realize how tiny it really is. But like in reverse.” He still looks confused. “You completely hide behind your clothes. They make you look all scrawny and skinny, but you totally aren’t.” Dylan just laughs and pulls me back into a kiss. His arms wrap around me and pull me down onto the fluffy bed that has somehow appeared behind him. That’s when the world starts to spin much faster than it should. I suddenly feel my dinner rising in my stomach.

      “Oh shit,” I mutter, pushing Dylan away from me and sprinting to the bathroom. Bending over the toilet, my stomach rids itself of everything I have eaten in the past two weeks. Over my own sounds, I hear the sink running. A hand pulls my hair off the back of my neck and replaces it with a cool washcloth. I glance up and Dylan is looking at me like some wounded animal.

      “Um... I’m just going to grab my stuff and call a cab,” I mumble, wiping my mouth. Dylan simply blocks the doorway. “Let me go. I’ve known you for like three hours and I just threw up in your bathroom. Obviously you aren’t getting laid tonight, so I’m just gonna go.”

      “You aren’t going anywhere. Not like that. I have an extra toothbrush under the sink somewhere and you are staying here.” Dylan looks legitimately concerned, so I just let out a sigh and give in. He grabs said toothbrush and asks if I want to shower.

      “Well aren’t you forward,” I tease. He shakes his head and pulls a fluffy towel out as well. “Uh, thanks... I know that is kind of a weird situation, but thank you.” Dylan smiles and turns on his heel. Halfway through my shower, a knock rings out and I hear Dylan say he is leaving clothes at the door.

 

      I wander into the kitchen, all wet hair and remnants of smeared make-up, sporting an old batman t-shirt and basketball shorts that are much too big for me. I clear my throat and Dylan turns, mug in hand.

      “I made coffee. Thought it’d help with the whole drunk thing.” Dylan smirks as I snatch the mug from his hand. I ask what time it is. “A little past three.” A loud groan rolls through me and Dylan grabs my hand, towing me back to his bedroom. “Sleep. I can take the couch if you think it’d be weird.”

      “I’m not making you sleep on the couch after I just puked in your bathroom. It’s fine. Especially since this was almost a one night stand.” Dylan just shrugs and kicks out of his jeans. I crawl under the fluffy covers and sigh at the comfort. Rolling onto my side, I bury my face in the pillow, stifling a yelp when an arm wraps around my waist. Dylan covers up a laugh and pulls me into his chest.

      “Is this weird? I feel like this is weird. Cuddling with a one night stand the never happened? Should I move?” Dylan rambles after a short silence. A wonderful pounding headache begins to take root in my brain.

      “It’s only weird if you make it weird. I don’t have a problem with it, but you can move if you want. I don’t care. But can you just... shhh. My head is starting to hurt.” The arm doesn’t move and a cold nose presses against the back of my neck.

 

      A raging headache wakes me up and I realize that Dylan is completely sprawled out over the bed. One leg is thrown over me, an arm resting on my side, drool in a little puddle on his pillow. A small laugh escapes me, but I freeze. He doesn’t budge. My stomach rumbles and the kitchen is calling my name. _Would it be weird to make him breakfast?_ I think to myself. _Well, it’s the least I can do, right?_ Wiggling awkwardly in an attempt to not wake Dylan, I slip out of the bed and have to push down a groan as my head threatens to split itself in half.

      The only things I find in the fridge are an old jar of strawberry jam, a half-eaten sandwich, and some orange juice. The cupboards don’t hold much else. Stale Ritz crackers, cheerios, some bread, and what looks like a year’s supply of coffee.

      “What does this kid eat?” I whisper.

      “The souls of the weak.” A loud yelp rings from my lungs as I jump three feet in the air. I hear a chuckle. “Skittish much? Sorry, I haven’t gone shopping in awhile. I was planning on going today. Want coffee? ‘Bout all I’ve got at the moment.” I nod and sit at one of the high black stools. Dylan flashes a smile my way and I swear it almost knocks me off my stool. With his messy bedhead and tight black boxer briefs, he is almost too much to handle. Add in that million watt smile and he could kill a girl.

      “Would you mind putting on a shirt or something? I can’t think straight with all of that visible,” I complain, gesturing to his broad chest. He lets out a bark of laughter and disappears into his room, returning in a t-shirt and jeans, but still barefoot. Dylan pads over and sits next to me. “This is a really weird situation, isn’t it?”

      “Yeah, kinda, but I am glad you stayed. We didn’t have to end this on a bad note.” He leans toward me and it takes everything I have to turn away. “Oh... Uh... Sorry...” His face falls quickly.

      “Oh gosh, No, Dylan, that’s not... Ugh. I don’t not want to kiss you. It’s just that I am leaving for New York tomorrow night. I’m just here for the weekend to visit a friend of mine.”

      “Oh,” Dylan repeats, sounding like someone just killed his puppy.

      “I don’t do one night stands. This is like the third time I’ve ever gone home with a guy. I have this problem with getting attached to people too quickly. I can’t let go. So, I’m not going to take this any further. I can’t let myself.” A loud sigh sounds next to me. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t think it was going to go like this.”

      “No, don’t be sorry. I get it. I completely get it. I’m the same way. I guess I just didn’t think that this was going to be just some one night stand. Well, I hoped it wouldn’t be just that. But, just my luck.”

 

      By the time I am at the door, Dylan looks like he is ready to bolt the door and never let me leave. But he lets me go, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. I know I should forget this guy, but something in my brain shoves that logical thought out of the way and asks for his number. A genuine smile finds its way onto his face.

      An awkward hug goodbye later and I am in the elevator of his apartment building, making an attempt to begin forgetting Dylan. But I already know that I am a little too far gone. I am too close to the cliff and I know I am about to go over, but I can’t do anything to stop it. Dylan is stuck in my brain.

 

      I meet Nicole for lunch and she gives me that “I know your secret” look again.

      “So, how’d last night go? Seemed like you two hit it off.” Her hand is tucked innocently under her chin, but we both know she is anything but innocent as she bats her eyelashes at me.

      “It actually ended up being a really weird night. We went back to his place and then I puked.”

      “Oh my god! What happened after that?” Nicole looks like she is trying really hard not to laugh. I tell her the rest of the story and at the end she is looking at me like I am the stupidest thing she has ever seen. “Dude, you can’t let this one go. He knew you for three hours and when you puked he didn’t kick you out. He took care of you and let you stay at his place. Call him! Ask him to have dinner! Do something!”

      “Nic, I can’t. You know me. This guy is already starting to work his way into my brain and I can’t let it go any further. I am leaving tomorrow night to go across the country. I don’t think I’m ever going to see him again. I shouldn’t have gone home with him.” Nicole just sighs and holds out her hand. Knowing it isn’t a fight I’ll win, I hand over my phone and she types out a quick message. My phone buzzes a few minutes later.

_Alright. Where are we going? –D_

_You know the area better than I do. You tell me._

_Okay, I’ve got a good idea. Where are you staying? Pick you up at 8. –D_

_I’m staying with my friend Nicole. I’ll send you the address. Attire?_

_Nice-ish. Not too fancy. See you at 8. –D_

      A big smile fights its way to my lips and Nicole just laughs. I punch her in the arm as she says that we are going shopping after lunch.

 

      At the end of the shopping trip, I am utterly exhausted, but Nicole seems satisfied with the little black dress she has thrown me into. She has also decided that sky high red heels are the only possible shoe option for this outfit.

      “Nic, I wasn’t dressed like this last night... Can’t I just wear jeans and a cute shirt?” She shoots me a look telling me that I’m an idiot. “Ugh, fine. I’ll pretend to be a lady for a night.” Nicole looks satisfied with my giving in.

 

      “Wow, uh, you look great... Nice dress.” A raging blush takes my skin tone to beet red. “Am I embarrassing you?”

      “Uh, I just blush really easily. Um, thanks.” Dylan smiles and offers me his arm, taking the blush to a new level of red.

      His car is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. Waiting for us is a cobalt blue 1974 Ford Mustang. I hear Dylan chuckle beside me as I run my fingertips over the hood.

      “Do I need to call the restaurant and tell them that we will be running late?” I ignore him and slide into the open door, the smell of old leather and the same cologne from Dylan’s apartment greeting me. The car roars to life and I can’t help but smile. Immediately, I am thankful Nicole forced me to ask him out. The smile on my face is persistent and not because of the muscle car rumbling beneath me. It’s because Dylan’s fingers are interlaced with mine, his thumb rubbing small circles into the back of my hand. This isn’t some guy I’ll be able to see for the weekend and then forget.

      Dylan has worked his way into my brain and I have a feeling he won’t be leaving anytime soon. I can’t help but wonder what the hell I am going to do when I leave San Diego. How am I going to say goodbye to this guy? How am I going to go back to normal life in New York when he is still here? Why did I let myself get this deep into this mess? What is it about Dylan that makes me not care that I am flying home across the country tomorrow night? Dylan must pick up on my sudden change in mood because he asks what is wrong.

      “I’m just thinking too much about the fact that I have to say goodbye tomorrow night.” Dylan’s face falls the same way it did this morning. “Yeah, I don’t want to either...” His hand tightens around mine.

      “We have a full 24 hours before then. Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.” The smile on Dylan’s face is contagious, though I can tell it is partially forced. I apologize for being such a Debby downer and Dylan responds with another squeeze of my hand.

 

      The restaurant has a good selection of lady-like salads to choose from and I give serious though to ordering one. Then I remember that Dylan has seen me praying to his toilet seat and I give up on any lady-like dignity I may have left. Bacon cheeseburger with fries is the order that comes from my mouth when the waitress asks. An approving nod is Dylan’s response.

      “This is probably an odd sight. A girl in a pretty little dress in heels, with her hair and make-up done; ordering a bacon cheeseburger and drinking whiskey.”

      “Well, it is kinda weird, but I like a girl that can hold her own. And it’s pretty obvious that you can.” And when I finish my burger before him, Dylan looks thoroughly impressed. “Damn, where’d all of that go?” He teases, attempting but failing to hide his smile.

      “Don’t laugh at me! I have a habit of eating really fast, always have.” Dylan laughs loudly causing the elderly couple next to us to glare in our direction. “We should probably get the check before those party poopers get us kicked out,” I whisper, though I am fairly confident they can still hear me.

 

      “Promise you won’t get sick this time?” Dylan mocks. I shoot him a glare from my perch on his countertop.”Alright, I get it. One time thing,” he mutters, sauntering my direction. His hands slip around my waist and he goes straight for my weak spot below my ear. My fingers slide into his hair, tugging slightly to get his lips to mine. The kiss is slow at first, all soft touches and lips. But it soon turns to teeth and tongue. Each person fighting for dominance.

 

 

      Light fingertips trace aimlessly up down my back. The blankets feel a little too warm against my flushed skin, but I don’t want to move. Dylan is breathing quietly, his arm draped around me. Our legs are slotted together and it is taking everything I have not to fall asleep. If I fall asleep, tomorrow will come that much faster.

      “Go to sleep, Sarah. It’ll be okay. Tomorrow is coming whether we want it to or not.” Dylan’s voice is soft and slightly broken. I bury my nose in the crook of his neck. The back of my throat is beginning to feel tight and scratchy, a telltale sign that tears are about to fall.

      “I don’t hear you falling asleep...” I force out, trying to control the shake that ripples through my words. The hand on my back moves to smooth my hair. _Stop. Don’t cry. You can’t cry. You’ve known this guy for two days. You’ll go home to New York and eventually forget about Dylan. Don’t cry._

      At some point, we both doze off and the next thing I know, the sun is shining brightly through the window. Neither of us has moved in our sleep. Trying to escape at least some of the heat radiating from Dylan’s bare chest, I make an attempt to wiggle out of his grasp. His arm only tightens around my waist, pulling me that much closer to his chest.

      “Not running out on me, are you?” Dylan mumbles, words drug down by sleep. That scratchy feeling comes back to my throat and I sit up, hands running over my face. His arms snake around my waist as his chin rests on my shoulder.

      “Couldn’t if I tried...” And it is the complete truth. This guy has his hooks in me so deep that I am stuck to the spot I sit. “But, I have to go. I’m meeting Nicole for lunch and if I show up in last night’s dress, I will _never_ hear the end of it.” Dylan groans loudly and pulls me down onto his chest. “Seriously, I should go,” I state, pressing a kiss to his lips. The arms locked around me fall to the sheets.

 

      I slip on my red heels and Dylan catches my hand. He kisses my cheek and walks me down to a cab.

      “I’ll take you to the airport, if you want...” Dylan offers. My heart flutters painfully in my chest. “I mean, Nicole can take you, I guess.” His head dips and he won’t look at me. Lifting his chin, I kiss him lightly.

      “My flight leaves at 7:40. Pick me up at 6?” Dylan nods and wraps me in a rib-cracking hug. As I slide into the cab, I see Dylan run his fingers through his hair, obviously upset. I feel the scratchiness come back, but this time I don’t bite it back. The tears start flowing and they don’t stop when the cab pulls up to Nicole’s loft. I knock and Nicole answers with a sympathetic smile and a tight hug.

 

      The car ride to the airport is quiet. Neither of us knows what to say. The car rumbles beneath us as we both sit awkwardly. His fingers are laced with mine, thumb running over my knuckles.

      The walk through the airport is worse. I’m trying my best not to break down, but I can feel myself beginning to shake. Dylan wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer. I shrug away, trying my best to protect myself from a meltdown. Dylan looks hurt, but maybe that’s for the best. My mind latches onto that thought. _Hurt him. Run. Break him and maybe this won’t be so damn hard. Push him away like you always do._

      “I can go from here,” I say once we reach security.

      “Uh, alright,” Dylan drops my hand and moves to kiss me, but I lean away. “Sarah...”

      “Just go. It’s not like we are ever going to see each other again. And like this actually mattered to either of us. Just a one night stand, right?” I can feel the venom in the back of my throat. Dylan looks like I’ve just slapped him.

      “You said this wasn’t just some one night stand. You...” His words stumble over themselves.

      “Well, I guess I lied. I didn’t get in your pants the first night, so I had to say something to get a piece of that hot ass of yours.” The words are grinding through my heart, but my voice stays strong. “So, I’m going to go back to New York and probably forget this whole thing even happened. Adios.” Dylan doesn’t say a word. He just swallows audibly and turns on his heel. With a glance back, I can see that his eyes are wet. It snaps all of the resolve I’ve got left and tears fall, matching his. _What the hell did you just do?_ a voice rings out in the back of my mind. I have to shake my head to focus when the security guard asks for my ID and boarding pass.

      “You alright, ma’am?” The guard looks concerned, but I just grab my pass and move on. Three other people ask me if I’m “okay” or if I “need someone to talk to”. Why would I want to talk to a stranger about the fact that I just turned my back on the most amazing guy I’ve ever met? Why would I want to revisit that and realize what a huge mistake I just made? Why would I want to admit that I just ruined the best thing that has ever happened to me? No, I don’t want to go down that road ever again.

      Dylan is gone and it is best for both of us. Neither of us could have done the across the country, long-distance relationship. I realize this and it really only makes me feel worse. I lost, no, I pushed away, one of the only people I have ever truly cared about.


	2. Should You Always Give Second Chances?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah's life in New York has come to a new normal. Until a her boss appoints her as the supervisor to the new intern at her law firm....
> 
> Sorry about taking so long to post the next part. I have been so busy with college finals that I haven't had time to write. :) Part three won't be as much of a wait! Promise!!!!

The computer pings as another email comes through, causing me to groan loudly until I see it is from Nicole. She asks about my new job. I hit reply.

Nicole,  
The papers on my desk are piling up higher and higher. This new job is kicking my ass and I can’t seem to catch up. The new boss is a jackass who’s kept me working on time cards and progress reports for everyone in the office. The past three nights, I’ve been at the office until every other person has clocked out. It sucks, but I am getting paid well and the benefits are pretty great. So I guess, that is good. I miss you a lot and I wish I could come back to San Diego to visit. But my douche bag of a boss is bent on keeping me here forever. I have to go.   
Love always, Sarah

The computer pings once again, but this time it is from the boss man. Asking for a proposal on a new case that just came into our firm. My degree is in environmental law, not corporate, but working here will give me so many doorways to other places in New York. So deal with my jackass of a boss it is.  
By the time I’ve got the time cards, progress report, and case proposal finished, it is nearly 10pm. My phone had three missed calls from Jack. With a sigh, I hit redial and await the angry best friend that will answer.  
“Where the hell are you, Sarah? I’ve been waiting at the bar for like an hour and a half. What’s up?” I tell him I’ve been at work and that I will be there soon.

The music is so loud that I can feel my ribs rattle. Jack is rambling on about some guy he met last weekend. One of those idiotic smiles is plastered on his face and it is contagious.   
“He sounds really great, Jack. Maybe if my boss ever gets off my ass, I’ll be able to break free of that hell hole and meet you guys for a drink or two.”  
“Well, you won’t have to wait for that, cause here he comes...” A tall, handsome, dark-haired guy comes over and wraps his arm around Jack’s shoulder. “This is Nate. Nate, this is my best friend in the entire world, Sarah.” Jack’s words are becoming slurred, but this guy is looking at him like Jack is the cutest thing he has ever seen. His hair is messy in the perfect way. His suit jacket over a blue t-shirt fits him like a glove across his broad chest. I shake my head, telling myself not to get a crush on my gay best friend’s boyfriend. We shake hands and his grip is firm. “Sarah, are you alright?” Jack is looking at me like I’ve just grown a third eye.   
“Uh... Yeah! Great! A round on me?” Nate laughs and Jack calls over the bartender.

My vision is blurry and I can’t think straight. Nate has a hold on one arm, Jack the other. All three of us are giggling and stumbling, but I can’t seem to keep my feet underneath me. After a few blocks, Nate wraps his arms around me and my feet leave the ground. I wrap my arms around his neck and press a quick kiss to his lips. Jack doesn’t seem to notice, but I am absolutely mortified. I wiggle, trying to get him to put me down. But he won’t.

I’m on Jack’s couch, with a blanket and an awful headache. A glance at my too-bright phone tells me that it is a few minutes past four. I roll over and then Jack is shaking me awake and shoving coffee into my hands.  
“Drink, you look like you got hit by a train.” Jack chuckles as Nate wanders out of his room, sporting a pair of red boxers and very obvious sex hair. The coffee catches in my throat at the sight of the perfectly sculpted abs and the sudden memory of what happened on the way back to Jack’s apartment last night. Yup, I’ve got a crush on my best friend’s boyfriend. Who just so happens to be gay. Awesome.  
“Uh, I’m gonna go home and ride out my punishment in bed. It was, uh, great to meet you, Nate. I’m sure we will be seeing a lot of each other...” Jack gives me a tight hug and so does Nate, but as his arms wrap around me, he whispers that he forgives me. My cheeks flush and I suddenly feel like I am going to lose anything that is left in my stomach. “Yeah, I’m gonna go before I lose it.” As I get into a cab, my headache becomes that much worse. The cab smells like smoke and old shoes, not helping with my nauseous situation. 

“Sarah, I expect that proposal on my desk by 1 o’clock. And we have a new intern coming in today. He will be here... well, now. You’ll be showing him the ropes.” Jerry doesn’t even bother to come out of his office. I push down the urge to flip him off and head towards the lobby to get said intern.  
The lady at the front desk points me to a kid sitting in a chair facing away from me. He is wearing a black baseball cap, but I think his hair is dark. His phone goes off and he flinches. Kid must be nervous. Pulling out his phone, long fingers type something out before the phone disappears again. Wait. I know those fingers. I’ve seen them before. Those are the hands of a man who could do things to you.   
“Dylan?” I stammer, approaching his chair. He whips around so fast I’m surprised he doesn’t hurt himself. Those beautiful amber eyes nearly fall out of his head. In the process of standing, Dylan knocks over the small side table, spills his coffee, and trips over a potted plant. “Still the same uncoordinated Dylan, I see.”  
“Sarah, what are you doing here?” Dylan spits out, fumbling to set the furniture back in original order.  
“I work here. And I guess you do, too, now. I’m going to be your supervisor during the internship. Depending on how you do, you may get the opportunity to become a permanent employee. But that is a few months from now. Let me show you where you will be for the next few months.” I turn to catch an elevator, but Dylan grabs my arm.  
“Really, straight to business? It’s been, what? A year and a half? How’ve you been?” And just like that, every single memory of my weekend in San Diego that I have been trying so hard to bury come flying back. Including the way we said goodbye.  
“Great. Now, can we get upstairs before my boss bites my head off?” Dylan drops my arm and his gaze. “And ditch the hat. Jerry hates the Mets.” The look on his face would be hilarious if it didn’t remind me of when I told him that I hate baseball in general. 

The work day is incredibly long, despite the fact that when Dylan showed up, my day was already more than half over. Jerry decides that on top of dealing with the new intern, I am head of a team that will pull together a presentation for a possible merger with a fellow firm.   
“Someone kill me, please. Put me out of my misery...” I complain, deflating onto my keyboard. “Sorry, this probably isn’t the best first impression of the company. It really isn’t that bad here. Jerry just apparently thinks that the only person around here who can do actual work is me. He has assigned me like ten new projects in the past two weeks. But I guess I’ve got you now, so maybe it won’t be as bad. So just prepare for long hours. And Jerry being on your ass all the time...” Dylan is awkwardly standing in the doorway of my cubicle, looking like he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands. “Oh, shit. Uh, this is your desk. We do have to share a cubicle since space is kinda limited. But that will make things easier on both of us since we will be working together on most projects and proposals. Any questions?”  
“Do you want to get a drink after work?” He blurts out, immediately looking uncomfortable in his own skin. “I’m sorry... Uh, what should I start on?” Dylan slumps into his chair and scratches at the back of his neck.  
“Okay, I need you to go through these files and pull out all of the ones that are marked dates between March 2012 and April 2013. I’m going to get started on organizing this case. And yes, I’d like that.” I catch the pink crawling into Dylan’s features as he turns around and buries his face in the file folders. I place the stack of folders on his desk and he lets out a loud groan. “Like I said, get ready for long hours. On Friday, I was here until 10 working on a proposal. So, say goodbye to whatever social life you’ve got. Kiss that shit goodbye because Jerry will start throwing stuff at you faster than you can figure out what he wants you to do. But be thankful if he does that because we get paid wicked overtime and also, it means he likes you and trusts you with important things.” Dylan flashes a million-watt smile and I try not to melt a little. 

“Hey... So when should I pick you up? Or are we going to meet at the bar? Whatever is cool with you... I’m fine with either.” Dylan is rambling.  
“You’re cute when you are nervous. Anyone ever tell you that?”That pink moves back across Dylan’s cheeks. “We can go to Candid on 7th. I’ll meet you there at eight thirty. I have to go meet my friend Jack and his boyfriend. I’ll see you.” Running on pure instinct, I wrap my arms around neck and press a kiss to his jaw. “Um... Sorry...” His face flushes deeper and he scratches at the back of his neck and then his hands slide into his pockets. 

Two hours later, I find myself standing in front of my closet in my bra and underwear, surrounded by a pile of clothes. Just put something on. Jesus. I settle for jeans and a glittery top. Maybe I put my make-up on a little darker than usual. Maybe I picked my tightest pair of jeans. Maybe I picked what Jack calls my “whore heels”. So what? Maybe I’m still into the kid after all this time. So what?

There’s a girl in a tight black skirt that is just long enough to cover things. Her shirt is about two sizes too small. Her make-up is ten different colors and her bright red lips are moving against Dylan’s ear. His hand is swirling whiskey in a glass in the same way he did the first night I met him, sending butterflies into my stomach.  
“Excuse me, but he is here with me.” The girl flinches and clicks away in her six inch heels, not that mine are any shorter. “You looked like you were bored out of your mind. And she kinda looked like a hooker...” Dylan’s head snaps up and his laugh rings out around me. “Can I sit?” He nods and I order tequila on ice.   
“You really have had it rough at work, haven’t you? I hope that I don’t have to drink on a Monday night.” I elbow him, but he just shoves back.   
“Hey, you asked me. And I had kind of a rough weekend to be honest.” Dylan just raises an eyebrow. “I got really drunk on Friday and I may or may not have kissed my best friend’s boyfriend... Yeah, that Jack guy I was telling you about? Yup, his boyfriend... I do stupid things when I am drunk. And besides, he is hot as hell.”He chokes on his drink and tries to hide his laughter. “Just dance with me, stupid.” I get up and tug on his hand, knowing that it is probably a bad idea.   
The music is just loud enough that Dylan has to almost shout in my ear for me to hear him. I still don’t really hear what he says, but I think it is a question of some sort so I just nod. His hands snake around my waist and I figure out that he was asking me if it was okay. Taking that as a signal that maybe he’s still into me, I pull my arms around his neck and push myself as close to him as I can get. Dylan just shakes his head and laughs quietly. Take me seriously. I’m not just being silly, I am trying to get this thing back... My lips find the soft part behind his ear and he shrugs away, bringing his shoulder to his ear. I let go of his neck and shove away from him, walking off the dance floor. I feel his hand try to catch mine as I leave.

Catching a cab, I get in and put my head in my hands. You are such an idiot... How could you think that after what you said to him that he could still feel like that for you? So stupid... The cab driver asks if I am okay and I just nod and tell him my address.

Going to work hadn’t crossed my mind, so when I walk into my office, I nearly smack directly into Dylan.   
“Sarah... I, uh, I’m sorry about last night...”  
“Don’t. Just don’t. I don’t need this right now. Did you get those files I ask for? I need them by today or Jerry is going to be pissed.” Dylan picks up a stack and drops it on my desk. “Thanks.” God I knew this was going to be weird sharing an office with this kid. Today is going to be a long day.  
And sure enough, the day drags on and on. Dylan seems to have questions about every little thing I ask him to do. Yes, he is new, but all I want to do is go home, hide in my bed, and never see him again.   
“Hey, you haven’t said anything to me outside of work stuff. I’m sorry if I upset you last night, but it has been a year and a half. And the way you ended things left me thinking you never wanted to hear from me again. Then, the day that we see each other again, you are all over me and I just didn’t know what to do with it. It freaked me out. Honestly, I was scared because I can’t let myself get back into that. Not if it is going to end with you running away again.”  
“I didn’t run. The only reason I left the way I did was to protect myself. I told you that I couldn’t get attached. I let myself fall and I had to break it off in the only way I knew that you wouldn’t fight me on. But the second I saw you turn and walk away, I knew that I had royally screwed up this whole thing. I honestly didn’t think I would ever see you again. Then you walked in here yesterday and I just figured ‘here’s my chance if I ever had one’.” Dylan won’t look at me. His fingers pull on a string at the bottom of his sweater. “Dylan, I’m sorry. I screwed up and I shouldn’t have done that last night.”He stands up and leaves. The idiot just leaves. He walks out. “Dylan? Are you kidding me?”  
“Sarah, why did the intern just walk out of the office?” Jerry sounds irritated and I know it is my throat on the line. I tell Jerry that he just went to the copy room and Jerry seems satisfied with my fib. “Okay. Well I need you to get back to work and finish up that case.”   
“Yes sir.” I mutter through clenched teeth. Hitting the elevator button with a little more force than necessary, I let the anger in the pit of my stomach begin to seep into the rest of my body. Don’t walk away from me. Bad move, Dylan.   
When I get downstairs, I see him waiting outside, attempting to catch a cab. He doesn’t notice me until I am right in front of him. He flinches and tried to sidestep around me, but I cut him off.  
“What the hell was that about? You can’t just walk out of the office like that. Do you want Jerry to fire you?” Dylan’s fists are clenched at his sides and the tips of his ears are beginning to turn pink.   
“I can’t handle working here. Not in this environment...” Dylan is still trying to catch a cab, trying to run from the situation again.  
“Who’s running now?” I snap. Dylan turns on me, face red.   
“Don’t pull that shit with me. You ran and never came back. You want to know why I am in New York? Because I finally got the courage to move here and track you down. It has been a year and a half and I haven’t been able to find anyone that made me feel the way you did. Do you know how awful that feels? To find all of these girls that are smart and beautiful and perfect, but some chick I spent the weekend with broke my heart and caused me to not want to be with anyone else. I have regretted not fighting harder for you since the second I turned my back.” My vocal chords have forgotten how to work and all I can manage is a strangled squeak. “Jesus, Sarah. I tell you all of that and you don’t have anything to say? I moved across the damn country for you.”  
“I never asked you to,” I push out, quietly. “I never asked you to come here and throw my entire life out of whack. I never asked you to get an internship at the exact company I work at. I never asked you fight for me because I didn’t want you to. I wanted you to let me go and forget about me and find someone in San Diego that could actually be with you.” Dylan is carding his fingers through his hair.   
“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? I uprooted my life so that maybe, just maybe, I could find you and actually make this thing work...”  
“Then why did you back out last night?” My words slice through his, my tone venomous. “You made the first move to put your arms around me. I figured that maybe there was still something there...” My throat tightens, cutting off my words. He moves closer to me, attempting to hug me. “Don’t. If you are just going to run and leave me here, don’t. Don’t make this any harder on me than it already is...”Dylan moves forward again and I let him.  
“I’m not leaving. Not again.”A smile forms on my face as he smoothes my hair and kisses the top of my head. “Promise. Now, let’s get back upstairs before Jerry murders us both.” Slinging an arm around my shoulders, he tugs me back toward the door and back to my hell on earth. 

Dylan breathes quietly where his head rests in my lap. My fingers have been sliding through his hair for what seems like hours. He yawns widely and leans into my touch.   
“I still can’t believe you quit. We even had the same office,” I groan.  
“I told you. I think Jerry hated me and that job was not my cup of tea. I know that I was only there for like two and a half weeks, but I hated it there. And you know that I’m not even interested in law. You’ve got a degree in law. It makes sense for you to work there. I have a degree in anthropology. I didn’t belong there.” Dylan sighs and sits up. “I don’t want to fight about this again.” He seems frustrated, judging by the way he moves so we are no longer touching.   
“Babe, I’m sorry. It’s just... I liked working with you. I guess I miss you. We barely see each other. I live here in Brooklyn. You live in Manhattan.” Dylan still looks frustrated. “I said I was sorry.” He scrubs his hand over his face.  
“I’m sorry, too. But that is going to change. I found a job at a small magazine here in Brooklyn. So, I’m going to need to find a new apartment. That should solve the living-across-the-city problem...” I can’t help the smile that works its way through my features. The next thing I know, Dylan is tackling me onto the couch, pushing me into the cushions.   
“When did you get the job? I didn’t even know you’d interviewed for something. But I am happy that you’ll live closer. I miss you.” Dylan pushes me into the couch again, kissing me chastely.   
“I miss you, too,” he murmurs against my neck. I attempt to wiggle my way out of under him, but he pins me down. His lips feather across my skin, knowing it is just going to drive me insane. I groan and try to push him off, but he pins my hands above my head.  
“Dylan...” I moan. Dylan seems to take pity on me, biting down over my pulse point. I hum quietly. Lips wander down to my collar bone and go to work making their mark. “Let me go...” I whimper. Dylan obliges and lets my hands go. They find their way into his hair, pulling him back up to my lips. Teeth dig into my bottom lip, pulling sharply. “Ow... Jesus, Dylan. You know I like teeth, but not that much...”  
“Sorry, it’s been like a week since I’ve been able to do this. It builds up. I have to get it out of my system when I can.” Dylan dips his head back to my neck, but I pull his face back up.  
“Just getting it out of your system? Seriously? That’s what this is for you? Just getting it out? What the hell?” Dylan frowns, attempting to kiss me. “No way,” I say, shoving on his shoulders, knocking him off balance and sending him to the floor.  
“You know what I meant, Sarah. I don’t get to see you and be with you every time I want to. So I have to take it when I can get it. And not seeing you as often as I’d like makes stuff like this mean a little more.” Dylan stands up slowly, most likely making sure I’m not going to smack him.  
“You always know what to say to make me not mad at you anymore. It’s annoying,” I complain.  
“You love me and you know it.” Bending over, he presses a kiss to my jaw. “Come on, it’s late. Let’s go to bed.” He tugs on my arm attempting to get me off the couch. I groan and pull him back onto the couch. “We aren’t sleeping on the couch.” Wait, he just said let’s go to bed. That means he is staying the night...  
“So you’re staying the night?” I question. Dylan just smiles and nods. “You haven’t done that yet... What’s different about tonight?” Dylan just stands back up and grabs my hand, pulling me into his arms. “Dylan... What’s wrong?” He pulls back only far enough to look me in the eye. He studies my face and just kisses my forehead. “Uh... Are you alright?”  
“Yeah, I just... It’s so weird that we are in the same city and that I managed to find you again... I guess I am just really happy that this is working out. I honestly really missed you. I thought about you all the time and I never could figure out why you left the way you did... But now I know and I am just really glad that we got this opportunity to fix things.” I can’t help the giggle that comes out of my mouth, so I bury my face in his shoulder, attempting to mask the sound.  
“Sorry, but that was really sappy. I mean, I’m happy that we fixed things, but you have to admit that all of that was pretty cheesy.” He just shoves away from me and heads toward my room. “Hey, wait, sorry... I really am happy that you decided to come to New York. I still can’t believe that you picked up your life and moved across the country for me... Don’t you know that’s crazy?” Dylan just hums and disappears into my room. I follow him into my room and he is already stripped down to red boxers and climbing into my bed. “Are you that tired?” He is buried under the covers, only his hair sticking out. Another hum comes from my bed.  
My mind wanders as I walk into my closet. An idea forms in my brain and I smile to myself. You are such a tease. 

“Dylan,” I whisper, emerging from my closet. “Babe, are you asleep?” He grunts and picks his head up off the pillow. Dylan almost falls off the bed he sits up so quickly. “So, you approve?” I coo, turning slowly to show off the light purple silk dress that clings in all the right places.  
“What are you hinting at?” Dylan questions, looking me up and down. I shrug and lean as sexily against the doorway as I can muster. “Sarah...” Dylan warns, though it is more of a growl than a word. I smile wickedly, knowing that my plan is working perfectly. “Come here. Don’t make me get up and come get you.” Dylan’s voice is low and husky, the threat sending a shudder up my spine. I make a move toward the bed, but instead turn and leave the room, catching a groan as I turn the corner to the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, I wait for Dylan. He’ll give in.   
Sure enough, after less than two minutes, Dylan turns the corner and stops, eyes dark. He steps closer and I move back a step, matching his movements. A glare darkens Dylan’s features, but instead of the fear it is supposed to make me feel, another shudder goes through me. He makes another move toward me, but, again, I retreat. Dylan pretends to hate when I do this, but we both know that he loves the chase. Turning to run, Dylan’s hand smacks against my ass, making me yelp. I am fully aware of the fact that he is ten times faster than me and will always catch me, but I sprint into the living room anyway.   
“Come and get me!” I tease as Dylan rounds the corner, nearly knocking over a lamp. Leaping over the back of the couch, I attempt to make a break for the door back to my room. Dylan sees my move coming and is in the doorway before I can blink. “Guess this means you win...” I mutter in fake defeat. 

“Hey, Sarah?” Dylan murmurs. I hum a response, too sated to actually form words. “I, uh, erm...” He sounds uncomfortable and like he is about to break bad news. I pick my head up from its place on his bare chest and look him in the eye, suddenly worried. He swallows audibly and takes a deep breath. “Um... I just wanted to tell you that... well, er, I think I’m in love with you...” The pink on his cheeks is evident and he won’t look me in the eye. Something in my chest grows and a fuzzy feeling takes root. A smile threatens to tear my cheeks as it spreads from ear to ear. I shift and roll so that I am sitting on his stomach.   
“I love you, too, Dylan,” I reply, kissing him. It’s sloppy and messy, but neither of us cares, licking into each other’s mouths. “How did we get here?” I laugh against his lips.   
“I guess we are just lucky,” Dylan smirks. “Well, if I hadn’t been a total stalker, I wouldn’t have come to New York and gotten that internship. So I guess I can take credit for this whole thing.”  
“Hey now, I am the one that made the first move at that bar in San Diego. If I had never come up to you and started a conversation, we wouldn’t even know each other, so I get credit,” I declare, nodding my head.   
“You are the one that left, though... You ran.” Dylan’s face falls quickly, stuck in bitter memories. “You not only left, but when you left, you tore out my heart and took it with you...”Dylan takes on the expression he wore the moment he looked back at the airport and I can almost hear my heart break all over again.  
“Are we really going to fight about this again? That was two years ago! And we are together now, so why the hell should it matter anymore?” I push away from Dylan and sit on the edge of the bed. I feel a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug away and leave the bedroom. You don’t get to make me feel guilty about this again. Footsteps echo into the kitchen and soon arms wrap around me. “Don’t. Just don’t.” A loud sigh brushes across my ear and the arms leave my waist.  
“Look, Sarah, I’m sorry...”  
“Then you shouldn’t have brought it up. Again,” I snap, tasting venom. I hear something that sounds very close to ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’ and a wave of rage crashes through my chest. “I am not the one that keeps bringing that whole thing up. I am not the one that still seems so butt hurt over something that happened two years ago and is completely irrelevant!” By the end of my rant, I am screaming and my voice is cracking. I can feel the shake working its way into my hands.  
“Sarah...” Dylan’s voice sounds more like a warning than anything. “Don’t shout. There is no reason to be upset.” Another flare of anger burns through me at his ‘addressing a wounded animal’ tone.  
“What the hell, Dylan? You go from being pissed about something to telling me not to shout? Just tell me, why do you keep bringing it up if you don’t want to talk about it!?” A tear rolls down my cheek, but I swipe it away, determined not to show any weaknesses.  
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t. I guess there is still some part of me that is in pain from that, but I promise that I won’t bring it up again. I... God, I made you cry... Jeeze, I’ve never done that before...” He cards his hands through his hair and scratches at the back of his neck. “Babe, I’m sorry.” His voice breaks on every word. Dylan puts his head in his hands, supported by the countertop. “Sar...ah...” he pants, suddenly breathless.   
“Hey... Dylan... What’s wrong?”Dylan has his hands pressed to his chest. His breathing is erratic and I can tell he has no idea what is going on. “Dylan, I think you are having a panic attack... Okay, get up.” Dylan’s eyes are wide and terrified. “Hey, look at me! You need to focus on your breathing. Try to get it back to normal. Put your hands on your head and come here.” I pull him up off the floor and tug him into the bedroom. “Get in bed; pull the covers over your head. Just focus on your heartbeat and my voice. Breathe.”Crawling onto the bed, I can feel Dylan shaking beneath the covers. “Okay, you are made of glass. You are filled with sand. There is a small hole in the bottom of your foot. The sand slowly begins to run out of the hole. Feel it leave your head, emptying your shoulders. Feel it move down your arms and through your chest. You can breathe easier. You feel lighter. It moves down through your stomach, into your legs until you are completely empty. You are weightless and feel as though nothing bad will ever happen again...” As my voice trails off, I realize that Dylan is no longer shaking. His head pokes out from under the covers.  
“How did you do that?” Only his eyes and the top of his head are visible. The amber eyes staring up at me are watery and still terrified.  
“I used to get panic attacks in high school. I had a lot of anxiety, but I learned how to deal with it. That visualization always worked for me.” Dylan lets out a sigh. “It’s okay. I know that panic attacks are really scary, but it’s over now,” I comfort, running my fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. He makes a small noise in his throat and scoots so his head is in my lap. I curl around his shoulders and press a kiss to his temple.  
“Thank you,” he whispers.  
“Leave it to you to have a panic attack in the middle of a huge fight...” I giggle. Dylan glares up at me. “I’m sorry. I kinda freaked the first time I had a panic attack. They can be really awful, but this is your first one. You can stop it in its tracks. You might want to go talk to someone to see if you have any hidden anxieties or extra stress. Because let me tell you, having frequent panic attacks is not something you want to deal with.” Dylan smiles up at me and moves so his head is resting on my shoulder, face pressed into my neck.

“Dylan...”I whisper, feeling sticky and sweaty from having Dylan wrapped around me all night. He is snoring quietly; extreme bedhead and innocent expression making him look like he is 12. “Babe... Wake up. It’s past 11. We need to get up.” One honey eye opens and a groan escapes his lips.  
“What time did we go to sleep?” Dylan’s voice is groggy and rough. I tell him around three, causing another groan. “Sarah, thank you for last night. And I’m sorry about bringing up San Diego. I meant what I said; I won’t bring it up again. Promise.” Dylan is staring up at me, eyes slightly misty.  
“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I got pissed over nothing. But I do agree that we need to put San Diego behind us.” I press a kiss to his lips and attempt to ignore his morning dragon breath. “And if you ever think you are going to have a panic attack and I am not around, call me. I will talk you through it. If I don’t answer for some reason, remember what I said. Go through it, say it out loud, breathe. I promise it will help.” 

 

Eventually, Dylan moves into my apartment. It’s been over a year since that idiot showed up in my office. Jerry has informed me that I am in the lead for a promotion as the new Vice President position that opened when the VP retired last month. Nicole has tried to talk me into coming back to San Diego, but with the new promotion on the line, I can’t afford to take any time off. Her emails are pleading, but I don’t let them get to me.

Sarah,  
Dude, you work too hard. Like way too hard. You need a break or you are going to lose it pretty soon. I know how much the promotion means to you, but if you have to give up all of your free time in order to get it, maybe it just isn’t worth it. Maybe I will come see you and we can spend a weekend together. Besides it’s been over three years since I’ve seen you and email just doesn’t cut it. I miss you. How are you and Dylan doing? I still can’t believe how fairytale that whole thing is.   
Don’t kill yourself over the promotion. I know you and I know that you will over-work yourself and go completely mad. Love you tons.  
Love, Nic.

I let out a loud sigh and tap out a reply before getting back to the different proposals and cases that have consumed my desk.

Nic,  
You know that I can’t leave. I can’t even afford a sick day right now. Dylan and I are good, but we don’t really have time for one another lately. Ok, honestly, I am the one that doesn’t have the time. I am just hoping that once I get to promotion, thing will calm down a little and I will be able to get back to him. He still loves his job at the magazine. I should send you some of his pieces. Dylan really is a talented writer and I am not just saying that because I have to. He is good at it and he loves it, so I guess that’s what’s important. And if you came to NYC, I would force myself to make time for you. I miss you and we have so much that we just miss in each other’s lives by living across the country. And you need to meet Jack and Nate. They are amazing and I think you would love them. I have to get back to work. Don’t say a word.  
Love you. Sarah.

A light knocking at the entrance of my cubicle breaks my concentration on the case of a company being sued by one of its employees for not giving adequate pension upon forced retirement. I mutter that the person can come in, assuming it is someone coming to ask if I can cover their ass for something they didn’t do that Jerry asked them to. Much to my surprise, I feel a hand on my shoulder turning my chair around.   
“You busy, Sarah?” It is Nate, who I haven’t seen in two months since he and Jack went on a backpacking trip to Europe. Cliché, right? My brain is trying to figure out why he would be in my office. I settle on having a question about Jack, though they have been together longer than Dylan and I have.  
“Uh, kind of, but I can spare a minute or two,” I huff, smiling forcedly. His hand is still heavy on my shoulder. “What’s up? How was your trip with Jack? I’ve always wanted to go to Europe.” Something in Nate’s eyes flickers and makes something low in my stomach churn. I don’t like that look, pipes a little voice in my head.   
“We broke up while in Madrid,” he states in a way that makes me think he was the dumper not the dumpee. My mouth opens to give a condolence, but his fingers slide over my lips, sealing off my words. “I stayed in Madrid after Jack left and did some thinking. Do you remember the night we first met?” I feel my cheeks begin to flush as I remember fragments of my drunken state and awful mistakes. I nod slowly, terrified of where this conversation may be headed. “Good. Since Jack and I broke up last month, I have been thinking a lot about that night. How much fun we had. How Jack and I were so happy. How you kissed me when I carried you...” he trails off, voice sultry. The blush across my cheeks deepens as Nate takes a step closer.  
“I have a boyfriend,” I blurt, uncomfortable with Nate’s proximity. He makes a noise in his throat and completely disregards the statement, taking another step toward my chair. My knee is now between his legs, this realization causing a weird lurch in my chest. What was that? my brain snaps. Oh hell no, you cannot be into this guy still. My mind is fighting against the weird little flutter going on in my abdomen and is losing terribly.  
“Jack moved out of my apartment. So we could have it for just the two of us.” To my utter horror, I actually consider his proposition for a few seconds. I shove him away from me and get up, attempting to escape the situation or just find other people to be around. “Oh, don’t be like that. You are only running because it actually is an intriguing idea. You can’t deny that you’ve still got something for me.” His words are an incessant stream against my ear. All of my self-control snaps and I turn on him. Nate stops in his tracks, eyes dancing.  
“Supply closet, second floor, down the first hall on the left. Five minutes.” A wicked grin flashes across his face as he turns to the elevator. My head is spinning so quickly that I have to lean against a nearby filing cabinet to steady myself. What in god’s name are you doing, Sarah? What about Dylan? I shake my head and head to the elevator, ideas of the supply closet already blooming. 

Nate is waiting patiently, leaning up against a shelf of copy paper. The wicked grin comes back and I have to admit it suits his features. Before I give myself any more time to think, I close the space between us. Strong hands wrap around my hips, fingertips digging in slightly. Teeth drag along the cord of my neck. Goosebumps arise over my arms and stomach at the cool fingertips sliding under the hem of my shirt. My breath is beginning to come in short pants as his lips work at my neck.   
“Don’t you dare mark me up,” I snap, tugging on his hair. “You and I will both be dead if someone finds out.” Nate pulls back just enough to give me my new favorite of his smiles. Something in me snaps back to reality when fingers ghost their way under my skirt, hiking it up around my waist. I shove Nate’s chest and scurry out the door. “Oh my god. Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” I notice that people are staring in my direction and duck into the bathroom. Catching a glance of my reflection in the mirror, I see a disheveled, flushed face with pupils blown wide. What the fuck is wrong with you? I take a deep breath, straighten my skirt and blouse, and head back to my desk.  
Leaving the office while thankfully managing to avoid seeing Nate, I immediately dial Nicole’s number. My heart is pounding painfully in my chest as I try to control my breathing.  
“Hey Sarah!” Her voice is completely filled with joy. After a few seconds of silence on my end of the line, she begins to ask the questions. “Sarah, what’s wrong? Did something happen with Dylan? Why are you breathing so heavily? What...?”  
“I did something really bad, Nic. Like really bad...” I hear a deep sigh followed by quiet.  
“You slept with someone, didn’t you?” She sounds understanding, carefully blocking any judgment from her tone. “Sarah... What the hell happened? You and Dylan are fucking perfect. Don’t mess it up. You need to tell him. Whatever... Whoever you did, you need to tell him. It’s not fair to him. Either tell him or break up with him. You can’t keep this a secret.”   
“I didn’t actually sleep with anyone.” Another sigh rings out.  
“Well, that’s great. What happened, then?” The judgment is slowly leaking into her tone, but right now, I agree with whatever terrible things she may be thinking.  
“You remember that guy Nate that was dating Jack? The one that I kissed last year right before Dylan came into town?” She says she does. “Well, he and Jack went on this backpacking trip to Europe for a few months. Nate broke things off while they were in Spain. Then he showed up in my office. I may or may not have almost had sex with him in a supply closet...” Silence. “Nic? You still there? Nic?”  
“Jesus Christ, Sarah. What is wrong with you? Are things going badly with Dylan? Why did you do that?” Her questions sink in along with the reality of what I’ve just done. I say a quick goodbye, ignoring her questions, suddenly aware of facing Dylan with the whole thing. You have to tell him. I text him and ask him when he will be off of work. Five. That gives me two hours to figure out how the hell I am going to tell him about this. I can feel panic beginning to rise up in my chest, but I swallow it down. Now is not the time for a panic attack. 

Dylan walks into our apartment and I still have absolutely no idea how to tell him. He greets me with a kiss and a ‘you’re home early.’ Oh god. I can’t do this. I can’t do it... Dylan drops his bag onto the couch and wraps his arms around my waist, showing me just how happy he is to see me. Jesus Christ. Not now...  
“I need to talk to you...” Dylan doesn’t stop licking and kissing his way down my neck.  
“Uh oh. Am I in trouble?” he laughs, biting down behind my ear. I shrug away and can’t help but think no, but I definitely will be. “Sarah, what’s wrong?” Dylan catches on to my mood and takes on a worried expression.  
“I, um, I did something bad today. Really bad. And before I tell you, you have to promise that you will let me finish before you say anything, okay?” He nods slowly, eyes filled with sudden terror. I take a deep breath and push down the treat of being sick. “Today at work, Jack’s boyfriend, well now ex-boyfriend, showed up at my work. He told me that he and Jack broke up last month while they were on their trip in Europe.”  
“Sarah...”Dylan interjects.  
“You said you’d let me finish. Well, the weekend before you showed up at my work for the first time I went out with Jack and him for some drinks. I was kind of wasted and in my drunken state, I kissed him after he helped me to Jack’s place. But that was before you, and I forgot about it completely.” Dylan’s face is a mixture of confusion and terror that I never want to see on his features again. “Okay, so he showed up at my office today and said that he and Jack were through. He made a move on me and at first, I pushed away...” Dylan opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him. “Please let me finish or I will never get this out.” Another deep breath. “I met him in the supply closet and we kissed. Well it was a little more that kissing, but that was as far as I let it go.”   
“What?” Dylan’s voice cracks along with my heart. “You what? You’re telling me that you cheated on me?” His voice is quiet, but I know it is just the calm before the storm. “How long?” He won’t look at me, but I take a step toward him, grabbing for his hand. “I said how long!?” he shouts, making me flinch.  
“Just today. This was the first and last time it will ever happen. Dylan I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I just... I had a lapse in judgment...”  
“A lapse in judgment? Are you fucking serious? That’s what you are calling this? You cheated on me, Sarah. Two weeks after our one year anniversary, you fucking cheat on me.” My throat goes dry and my head completely blank. “You really have nothing else to say?” Dylan is staring me down, arm crossed. “You know, I should have expected this. You have been spending so much time at work and getting home late. I know that Jerry keeps you busy, but I should have figured out that something else was taking up your time...”  
“I have done a lot of things, but I have never lied to you. I told you what happened. This was the first time I have ever done anything like this and I would have told you otherwise. Don’t you dare think that I would be able to keep something like this from you.” My breathing is becoming erratic, but my hands remain trembling fists at my sides. Dylan just stares. “Well, are you going to say something or are you just going to stare like I am some animal at the zoo?” Silence. “Babe, please say something. I don’t think you could ever understand how much this is eating at me.” Dylan turns and heads toward the bedroom.  
Pulling a duffle bag from the closet, he begins throwing things in, not bothering to fold them. Work shirts, socks, his phone charger and laptop. Panic settles heavy on my chest when the meaning of his packing finally clicks.  
“Dylan, please don’t do this. You can’t leave. We can’t fix this if you just run and won’t talk to me about it.” I am forced to result to tugging on his sleeve and making an attempt to block the door.  
“Get out of my way, Sarah. I can’t be here right now. I need to get somewhere I can think straight. I need time to figure this out. Don’t try to figure out where I am going. And don’t follow me. I will let you know when I am ready to talk about... what happened.”  
With that, Dylan is out the door and getting into a cab. I am left on the front stoop of our... my... apartment, attempting to hide from the rain (cliché, I know). My feet take me down the steps and up the city block.

An hour passes. Then another. The sun goes down and the city gets louder despite the persistent rain. Neon signs come to life. Stepping up to a hooded cover of an apartment building, the doorman gives me a look that seems to as if I’m lost. Cold rain water runs rivers down my spine from my now soaking-wet hair. The wool of my cardigan sticks and itches; the thought that it is for sure ruined not even crossing my mind. My feet carry me to Central Park before I realize that I am nearly thirty blocks from the apartment. Sinking onto a cold bench, I push my hair out of my face. My tears have run dry and even my bones are chilled.  
“Sarah? What the hell happened to you?” Jack is peering at me from under his turquoise umbrella. “You are soaked. And not wearing a coat. Why are you so far from your apartment dressed like this? Sarah, what happened?”  
“Um, Dylan left and I started walking. Guess I ended up here,” I inform him through chattering teeth.  
“Come here. We need to get back to my apartment and get you dried off. Then we are going to talk, if you want to, of course.” I am drug along to Jack’s apartment where he forces me into the shower, into a pair of his sweats, and onto the couch with a mug of tea in my still-shaking hands.  
“Jack, I did a really bad thing. Dylan hates me because of it. And you probably will too... Oh god... He left. He really left.” The panic comes back and sits on my lungs, shortening my breaths. “I made out with Nate in a supply closet at work this afternoon like some stupid horny teenager... Jack I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. He just showed up in my office and said that you two had broken up and it just... Ugh...” I don’t expect the look on Jack’s face. His eyes are soft and a sympathetic smile plays across his lips.   
“Nate is a pig. That’s why I dumped him. And judging by the surprised look on your face, he told you that it went the other way around. God, I am so happy I got rid of that before it destroyed me. Dylan will come around. He understands how much you love him and it might take awhile, but he will come back. I promise.” But what if he doesn’t?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah goes into a bit of a tail spin after Dylan leaves. Who will be the one to shake her out of it? Literally.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I was wrong for lashing out like this. Maybe this wasn’t the best way to deal with the whole thing. But this was the only way I knew how. Find a willing stranger and forget for an hour or two. Well, forget for a night if I had the money for a fifth of tequila.

★★★★★

Tonight is a night where I have to rely on random guys to get my alcohol. With my skirt waistband rolled to show just a few more inches of leg, that shouldn’t be a problem. I manage to score drinks off of a few travelling business men out on their company’s credit card. One gets a bit too handsy for me, so I move on to an awkward accountant who seems to never have had a sip of alcohol in his life. He buys me two shots and two strong amaretto sours. My brain is taking on the comfortable fuzziness of a good buzz and I begin to search out my distraction.

A sandy blonde man is sitting at the corner of the bar, with a brown-haired girl almost sitting on his lap. The way he is leaning away from her tells me that he isn’t interested. Feeling as though I could improve his night, I slip my old sapphire ring onto my ring finger and head his way.

“Excuse me. Who are you and why are you sitting on my fiancé’s lap?” I flash the ring and put on my best bitch face, but almost lose it when she nearly rolls onto the floor. “Hi, babe.” I plant a kiss on his lips as the girl blanches and huffs, walking away.

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t engaged,” he smirks. “And where’d you get that ring? Do you actually have a fiancé around here that is about to come kick my ass?”

“My parents gave this to me for my sixteenth birthday. It’s a white sapphire.” I shrug my shoulders and he lets out a hearty laugh that goes straight to my stomach. “You looked like you wanted to get away from her. I guess I took pity on you. Can I?” I ask, gesturing to the empty bar stool next to him.

“So, I think that I should probably get to know you better before we get married. Sometimes I feel like we are just complete strangers to one another.” The completely sincere look on his face sends another tingly feeling straight to my gut. “Am I allowed to buy my fiancé a drink?” I feel the corners of my lips turn up and nod. “So what brings a beautiful woman like yourself out this evening?”

“I cheated on my boyfriend of one year and he left me. So I am out searching for a rebound.” This blonde man coughs slightly, and then begins to laugh. He smiles at me as if he appreciates the sour-toned joke. When I don’t return the smile, blondie realizes that I am being serious and his face falls flat.

“Oh... Uh, sorry. I guess. Though it sounds like you kind of brought it on yourself.” I send my worst glare his way, beginning to think that maybe I shouldn’t have saved him from that tramp that was climbing him like a tree. “Well, did you ever stop to think why you cheated? Maybe it was because you just weren’t happy anymore. You might not have realized that you were unhappy, but it sounds like you were trying to find a way out of the relationship.”

“I loved him and I have for three years...”

“You can love someone and still be unhappy. It’s a lot more common that you think.” The same pain I am trying to distract myself from settles into my bones, making me want to run out of the room and go home to hide under my bed. “I’m sorry. That was really rude of me. Kasey Johnson. I have a Masters in developmental psychology. Hence the annoying analytical prying of your life. But if we are going to keep this completely honest thing going, then I should tell you that we are two peas in a pod. I just got out of a three-year relationship. I had a ring picked out and date all planned to ask the question. Then she ran off with her intern to Connecticut. Who the hell runs off to Connecticut?”My brain stops and the tequila catches in my throat at the word _intern_.

“Okay, look, Kasey. I don’t mean to be rude or forward about this, but I really don’t give to hoots in space about why you are here. I am just looking for someone to distract me for a few hours. I don’t want to know about your almost-fiancé. I just want you to take me home and make me forget because it sounds like you need to forget as well. So, my place or yours?” Kasey’s jaw drops, but he grabs my hand and rises. “Yours, I take it.” Something dark flashes through his eyes as his arm slips tightly around my waist.

 

Kasey snores. Like an elephant with a head cold. _I swear if he keeps on like that, I will suffocate him with this pillow._ Not being able to sleep any longer, I push his arm off of me and roll out of bed, only slightly careful not to wake up the trombone beside me. I scribble out a note and leave it on his countertop that reads:

Thanks for the distraction.

 

The next night, I find my way to another stranger’s bed. This one has dark hair and a husky voice, jaw ridden with stubble. He says his name is Tyler, but I just focus on the sculpted abs and beautiful biceps I have discovered.

 

The night after that, another dark haired mystery man with a supposed degree in some type of engineering, but I don’t remember considering the fact that he murmured it against my neck. Once again, I make an attempt to sneak out in the wee hours of the morning, but he wakes up and catches my arm.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he says, pulling on my arm with a little more force than necessary. “You think that you can just leave in the middle of the night without me noticing?”

“Look, we both had an understanding that this was a onetime thing. When I came home with you, I was under the impression that this was just going to be a one-night shag and then we go our separate ways.” Mystery man’s eyes darken, but not in the way they did when he asked me to come home with him last night. This is a kind of look that makes you hug your purse a little tighter and switch the side of the street you are walking on. “I’m going to go. I don’t want you to think that this is going to be anything more than just a hook-up. I’m not looking for anything. I told you that all I wanted was a distraction and you were a very good distraction, but that time is over now. So I’m gonna go.”

“No, you aren’t. You are going to stay here.” His voice has gone low and rough, sending a red flag up in the back of my brain. “You can’t leave me. You have to stay. I can’t be left alone.” His grip on my arm tightens, becoming painful.

“You’re scaring me. I need to go. I don’t want to be here with you if you are going to act like this.” He yells, throwing his fist and catching it across my cheekbone. Pain splits across the left side of my face as I feel blood trickle down my cheek. “I’m calling the police. You are fucking psycho!!!” I lunge across the room and grab my phone, running to the bathroom. I dial the phone and get through to the dispatcher. “Hi, I am at a house on SW 9th over in Brooklyn. I went home with a guy from the bar and now I am trying to leave, but he wouldn’t let me.”

“Ma’am, I don’t think there is anything I can do...”

“Well, he grabbed my arm and punched me in the face because I tried to leave. Can you do something now?” There is a pause on the other end of the line.

“I am dispatching a unit to your location. Do you know the address?” I tell her no, but that it is a blue townhouse on the sixth block of 9th. “Ok, an officer is on his way. Do you need medical attention?” I tell her I am fine and sit on the side of the tub, attempting to drown out the pounding on the door.

After about five minutes, the pounding goes quiet and I think the police might have finally shown up. Then a small click echoes and the door swings open. Mystery man is standing in the doorway, face red, hands in fists. He begins screaming, but I can’t understand anything that he is saying. This man walks toward me and snags the front of my shirt as I try to skirt around him. A loud voice comes from the front entrance as he throws me to the ground, my head connecting with the corner of the cabinet.

There is a lot of noise before I open my eyes. Something sharp is in my arm and my head is pounding. There are two voices, but I don’t recognize either of them. There are multiple machines beeping. As I open my eyes, I am aware of the fact that I am in a vehicle, then it clicks that I am in an ambulance.

“Miss, can you hear me?” My eyes open and a blonde, blue-eyed EMT is staring down at me, holding an IV bag above my head.  I nod, sending a shooting pain through the left side of my face. “You have a concussion and your cheekbone might be fractured. Try not to move your head. We transported you because of your unresponsive state. We will be at the hospital in two minutes.”I open my mouth, but he takes the question from my lips. “Yes, he was arrested. An officer will be by the hospital to take your statement and to ask if you want to press charges. If I may be so bold, I really hope you do. I can’t believe there are men out there that would hit someone like that...” Getting a glare from the other EMT, he shuts his mouth, but he smiles at me.

 

I do press charges and catch a cab home after hearing from a nurse that my cheekbone isn’t broken, just badly bruised. By the time I am in bed with a bag of frozen peas on my face, the sun is coming up.

When I wake, it is 2:30 in the afternoon and my stomach is attempting to eat itself. The fridge is disappointingly empty. I put on a baseball hat and throw on my hood, knowing I’ll need to hide the large purple and yellow bruise that has bloomed across my left cheek. Despite my efforts, three people ask if I am okay. The store clerk calls me a “poor darling” and a man on the street asks if he needs to call the cops.

Sitting at home, eating scrambled eggs, the only thing I want to do is call Dylan. Every cell in my body wants his arms around me. I want him here. I want to talk to him. Before I realize what I’m doing, my phone is out and dialing his number. After two rings, I hang up the phone, not being able to actually figure out what I was going to say. Another name surges into my head and I scroll through my contacts list, fingers hovering over a certain name. Kasey. _You ran out on him. Do you really think that he would want to talk to you after you just ran?_

“Sarah? Uh, hey. I didn’t even realize that I gave you my number... What’s up?” He sounds shocked to be hearing from me and I don’t blame him.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story... But I just kind of need someone to talk to and for some reason you were the first person to come to mind...” Kasey listens quietly to my whole story, adding in ‘hmm’s and ‘oh’s occasionally. He remains quiet when I am finished and I begin to think the line has gone dead when he speaks.

“Why did you want to talk to me about this? You should talk to a friend or even a shrink. I think that this might cause you to have some post traumatic stress.” I tell him that I regret leaving that morning; that I should have stayed. “So I wasn’t just some distraction like you said?”

“It started out that way, but something clicked with you. You weren’t just some guy to take my mind off of what happened. I guess I kind of fell for you. I’ve thought about you a lot since then and wanted to call; I’ve just never had a reason.” A long sigh comes through the phone and I know I messed up. Big time.

“I have to go, Sarah. Good luck with that whole thing. Bye.” The line goes dead and my heart twists painfully in my chest.

I end up calling Jack and staying on the phone with him for nearly three hours before I fall asleep on the couch to one of his stories about some girl that tried to get with him a few nights ago. I doze off as he tells me that she didn’t seem to believe him when he said he didn’t prefer women.

 

Work the next day is awful. Every person that wanders into my office gasps and asks me what happened. I tell everyone that I got in a fight with a huge wrestler on Friday night. Some people just laugh it off, not sure what else to do. Others take me completely serious and ask if I won. Of course, I tell them that I did and they should see the other person.

Not being able to hide anything in my work attire, I am the target of every stare in the lobby. Including a dark-haired man in a Mets baseball hat. Dylan walks straight toward me, an extremely worried look on his face. When he is standing in front of me, a hand tilts my jaw his direction.

“What the fuck happened?” My lungs forget how to work; this being the first time I’ve seen Dylan since he walked out all those nights ago.

“What are you doing here, Dylan?”

“God, you look like you got worked over with a baseball bat.” Dylan still has a grip on my left upper arm. I can’t focus on anything but the small point of contact. My brain is stuck on firsts. The first time he has touched me since that night. The first time he has said my name. The first time I’ve looked into those amber eyes. “Sarah, _what happened_?”He is staring straight at me, eyes searching my face.

“Went home with a creep and paid for it.” I can see the anger welling up behind his eyes. “Dylan, I have already talked to countless people about what happened. Police, nurses, Jack. And it wasn’t some big traumatic event. So some guy hit me. It honestly is my fault for going home with the idiot.” Dylan turns on me, ready to start telling me that it isn’t my fault. “Don’t start with me. Don’t tell me that I shouldn’t blame myself. Don’t tell me that it isn’t my fault. Because it is. I went home with a guy who I knew nothing about and if I would have been a normal person, I could have slept through the night and left in the morning, avoiding the whole situation. So, yes, it was my fault. Don’t try to convince me otherwise.” He stands and stares at me like I am the stupidest person he has ever seen in his life.

“I’m taking you to dinner and I am going to get this whole story. Don’t argue with me,” is his response when I open my mouth to protest.

 

The two of us end up on my couch. Dylan asks me if I can tell him about it. After rolling my eyes, I tell him everything. My brain has programmed itself to not think about the severity of what actually happened, but for some reason with Dylan here, every wall I have built around the incident come crashing down.

I get half way through the story, through the part where he punched me and my throat catches. My words curl in on themselves and don’t make sense anymore. My breath nearly stops in my lungs. Dylan’s hands are on my shoulders and he is saying something, but I don’t hear him.

“Hey, Sarah, are you alright? You said that you were fine with this whole thing. What’s going on?” Panic is setting in and my hands are beginning to shake.

“I’m trying to avoid having a panic attack. So stop talking and let me focus...” I go through every exercise I know in an attempt to calm myself down, but my lungs don’t seem to want to listen. I result to putting my head between my legs. “I don’t... understand...”The panic is getting heavier in my chest. Dylan moves closer to me and pulls me onto his lap, carefully wrapping his arms around me. “Don’t Dylan. I can’t. We’ve been through this before.”I shove away from him, knowing the ache in my chest will be too much for me to handle right now.

“I’m here as a friend. You needed a friend to talk to so that’s what I am being right now. If you don’t want me to be anything else, then I won’t.” His arm leaves me and a cold feeling settles into my bones as he stands to leave. I stand up to follow, but my foot catches on the leg of my coffee table, sending me to the floor.

★★★★★★

“Sarah, I know you are still in there. I know you can hear me.”

“Dylan? “

“Ugh, please wake up Sarah. Come on. Please...” Dylan’s voice is pleading in my ear, but everything is black and I can’t feel anything. I scream his name, but he doesn’t hear me. “Why do you have to be such a damn klutz? Jesus, you can’t, like, die.”I attempt to reach toward his voice, but nothing happens. My fingers don’t move in the slightest. _What is happening to me?_ I repeat his name, but still no sound is formed.

“Wait, what did she just say? She just said my name. Did you hear that?” Dylan’s voice echoes around me once more, hope filling it. “Sarah! Can you hear me?” The numb feeling begins to disappear and my limbs don’t feel so heavy.

“She must be waking up. She should still be processing the pain medication we gave her for the concussion, but she should become conscious fairly soon.” What I assume to be the nurse follows that with saying she’s got other patients to tend to. Dylan mutters a thank you and I feel something running smoothly over my fingers. Reaching toward the feeling, I hear a gasp come from Dylan. A light feeling takes over me and my eyes flutter open.

The hospital room is much too bright and I immediately attain a raging headache. A dark figure looms over me, but with my eyes struggling to adjust and my head aching, I can’t understand what the figure is saying.

“Sarah, hey, Sarah! Oh thank god...” Dylan is wrapping his arms around me and smoothing my hair. “Uh, sorry... Um, I’m really glad that you are alright.” Dylan sinks back into a chair next to the hospital bed and cards his fingers through his already very messy hair.

“What the hell are you going on about?” My throat feels like sandpaper, but I manage to get the words out as Dylan comes into focus. “What the hell happened?”

“Well, uh, I went to leave because it seemed like you didn’t really want me to be there anymore. You tripped on the coffee table and hit your head on the corner and blacked out. They said that it was because of the concussion you got a few days ago. Your brain is healing and that was its way of protecting itself.” I nod try not to think about how itchy the IV in my arms feels. “You need to be really careful for awhile.”

“How long have I been out?” Dylan tells me about 45 minutes, but that part of it was because of the pain meds. “Don’t worry about me so much. I’m going to be fine, promise. And thank you for staying with me,” I whisper as the nurse comes back in the room.

 

I am released from the hospital the next morning after tests are run to make sure there is no swelling in my brain. As soon as I am home, in bed, Dylan asks me if I need anything. I don’t know why, but I ask him to stay. He climbs into bed next to me and I try not to let the stinging in my eyes become tears. Out of old habits, when Dylan gets comfortable, I curl into his side. I know that I really shouldn’t do this and that I should just send him home. But as his arm hugs my shoulders tightly, I lean into the feeling and feel my shoulders relax for the first time since I woke up. Dylan kisses my hair and within seconds I am asleep.

 

A shiver running through me pulls me out of sleep. I note graciously that my head no longer hurts, but my bed is empty save for me. Dylan’s side of the bed (well the side where he slept last night) is cold and reality sets in. _Did you really think he was going to stay? How stupid are you? You can’t be..._

“Hey...” Dylan’s voice ringing out from the doorway makes me flinch. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, making him look uncomfortable.

“I thought you left again...” I don’t want Dylan to hear the waiver in my voice, but he doesn’t miss it.

“No, uh, I just made some coffee. I actually gotta go. You gonna be alright?” _Of course he’s running. I should have known._ He slinks out the door and I hear the door click shut. I flop back down on my pillow and groan loudly. Snatching up the pillow that still smells like him, I fall back asleep.

My phone ringing wakes me up and I fight with myself on whether or not I want to answer it. I settle for answering it. I don’t look at the caller ID and just hit answer.

“Hello?” I sound like I’ve got a frog in my throat and my headache is beginning to come back.

“Hey Sarah...” _Kasey?_ “Sorry if this is kind of weird, but I was just calling to make sure that you are okay... Since you called me the other night, I’ve been really worried about you. You seemed pretty shaken up about it and I wasn’t a very good friend...”

“Since when are we friends, Kasey?” My tone comes out harsher than I wanted it to. “I just mean, this is only the second time we’ve talked since we hooked up. I wouldn’t really call that friends. Maybe like friends with benefits or something stupid like that, but nothing more.” I hear a sigh, but it sounds more amused than frustrated.

“Friends with benefits, huh? So are the benefits still an option?” I can almost hear the smile in his voice. “Because if they are, that would be pretty great. You home right now?”

“Yup. Just sitting in bed with a raging headache, bad concussion, and having spent the night curled up next to my ex. So yes, I am home. And completely emotionally void. Perfect for benefits.” Kasey hesitates, but laughs quietly before hanging up.

 

“So, wait. He came by your work to do what? Like check on you or something?” Kasey’s fingertips continue to trace patterns over my skin.

“I don’t know. He never told me why he came. He just saw the bruise on my face and got pissed. We went to dinner and back to my place to talk about what happened. Part way through the story I had to fight off a panic attack. Usually I can snap myself out of them, but this one was really bad. I got defensive with Dylan because he put his arms around me, so he went to leave. I went to follow him and tripped.”After the story of going to the hospital, Kasey sits back a little. “What?”

“You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?” Kasey’s face has taken on an expression of complete understanding. “Just like I am still stuck on my ex... Maybe that’s why we met each other. We are here to help the other move on with their life.”

“I don’t know if I am still _in_ love with him, but I know that I still love him. I probably always will in some way.” Kasey nods and lays his hand over mine, fingers entangling. His eyebrows are knit together as he chews at his bottom lip. The hand not in mine rakes through his hair, successfully ruffling it. “What’s wrong?” Bright blue eyes meet mine.

“Just thinking about her and trying not to let it get to me like it always does. If I could be any less cheesy, I would. But being with you makes it easier and it feels like my life doesn’t suck so much...” Letting his head sag, he runs a hand over his face. “I just wonder if we are forcing ourselves into this because we both have gotten hurt...”

“Well, you can be here as a good friend, like you wanted in the first place. A shoulder to cry on, a sheltered hug when needed. Nothing more. We can just watch a movie or talk more. You haven’t really talked about what happened with your fiancé. Or almost fiancé...” Kasey relaxes a bit and gives in to laughter. Why he is laughing about his ex-fiancé leaving him is beyond me. Kasey sits up and slings an arm over my shoulders.

 “Movie. Definitely a movie over talking. Some stupid comedy that isn’t actually that funny, but you laugh anyway.”

 

Halfway through Hangover 2, Kasey is slouched against me and attempting not to fall asleep. His head is lulling against me shoulder and he inhales sharply every so often.

“You are allowed to fall asleep, you know. It’s not against some rule. I really don’t mind...”Kasey sits up and snatches a pillow from the floor, flopping it onto my lap and following with his head. I pause for a second, but sigh and run my fingers lightly through his hair. A content exhale leaves Kasey and I can’t help but smile. “Hey, I’m pretty tired too. Do you want to just call it a night?”

“Is that your way of asking me to leave?” Kasey turns to face me, eyes heavy with sleep.

“No, that’s my way of asking if you want to go to bed.” A slight pink rushes through Kasey’s cheeks before he turns away to conceal it. “Come on,” I whisper, bouncing my legs to get him to sit up. Eventually he does, so I stand and grab his hand, tugging him toward me room.

As we walk through the door, his hand leaves mine and is replaced by an arm slipping around my waist. I am pulled flush against Kasey’s chest as warm lips brush over my pulse point. Like clockwork, my neck is bared and Kasey works his marks into my skin. Cold fingers slip under the hem of my sweatshirt, causing my breath to hiss through my teeth.

 

“I like benefits,” Kasey huffs, still slightly out of breath. I punch his arm, but snuggle closer into his chest. “So...”

“Oh no. No way. Not the ‘so...’ speech. Nothing good ever comes after ‘so’. I like what we’ve got going here. Don’t you dare ruin it with those stupid two letters. I’m not going to let you.” A fond sigh comes from Kasey.

“I was going to say, so, are we together now, or what?” I pick my head up to look at him and he has his signature half smile plastered on. _Bastard. You know I can’t resist that face._ “I mean, I’d be fine with being friends with benefits. But I’d like to actually be able to call you my girlfriend...”

 

★★★★★

 

Burning my tongue on the latte in my hand, I flip through a dusty book by some author I’ve never heard of while waiting for Kasey at our favorite coffee shop. It’s small and filled with mismatched antique furniture and books. The barista knows my order by heart. The place smells like a mixture of coffee beans and old. You know that smell that old things have that you can’t really describe but is definitely there? That one.

I glance up from my book to see if Kasey has arrived yet and spot a familiar black Mets hat on a guy at the ordering counter. _Dylan._ Almost as if he could read my mind, Dylan turns around to look directly at me. A genuine smile flashes across his face as he thanks the barista and takes his coffee. Crossing the room in only a few strides, he sinks into the chair across from me.

“Hey there, Sarah. How’ve you been?” Dylan is smiling at me like there is nothing in our history that could hurt him. “When was the last time I saw you?”

“When you took me to the hospital...” Dylan’s face falters a moment, then returns to its nostalgic smile. “And I’ve been really good. Great, actually. I just moved in with my boyfriend of eight months. His name is Kasey and he makes me really happy. How’ve you been doing?” I note the tattoo of trees wrapped around his wrist and wonder why it’s there.

“I’ve been good. Actually, pretty similar to you. My girlfriend of a year just became my fiancé...” _Wait. Did he just say of a year? That means he was with her when he came to see me..._ “We set the date for next spring. It’s going to be a rooftop wedding; her idea. I’m just kind of rolling with it and letting her take care of everything. She’s an event planner so she loves it. I’m sorry, I’m rambling. Are you still working the same job?”

“Yeah, I am. But I got promoted, so I don’t have to deal with Jerry anymore. And wow. I can’t believe you are getting married. Uh, congratulations, I guess.” Another genuine smile rushes across his face. “What’s her name?” _Why do you need to know that?_

“Jenna. We met at an art gallery in the broncs. What about, uh, Kasey, was it?” I tell him that he was a one night stand that turned into something completely different. Dylan’s smile turns slightly uncomfortable at my story. “Well, I’ve actually got to go meet her at the bakery for a cake tasting. I was just going to grab a coffee to go.” Dylan stands awkwardly, readjusting his ball cap. “It was really great to see you, Sarah.” I stand up as well, expecting a handshake. Much to my surprise, Dylan wraps me in a tight hug. He lets go and I try not to let that little twinge of pain in the back of my head take root. As Dylan turns to leave, he flashes one last smile. “I’m really glad that you are happy, Sarah.”

 

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have stuck with me through this whole thing, THANK YOU SO MUCH. I know part three took forever to post, but I hope it was worth it. I'm used to happy endings with the person you"belong" with. I thought I'd change it up a little. :) As always, comments and kudos are appreciated greatly!! Thank you lovlies!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments as always. Thank you lovelies!! :D Follow me on tumblr @ offmyrocker95 'smooch'


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